The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 220: Walking Side by Side on Dragon Mountain

Mo Ran fell silent.

If not for this vivid dream, he would never have discovered the terrifying fears hidden deep within his heart – the fear of Chu Wanning's death, the fear of facing his feelings for Shi Mo, and the fear that this entire life might just be an illusionary dream.

He lowered his head, unsure if it was the effect of the cold water from the dream or some other reason.

He felt cold, shivering uncontrollably.

Chu Wanning stood up from the ground. With so many eyes watching, he and Mo Ran couldn't afford any overly intimate gestures. Besides, during Mo Ran's nightmare, he had kept hugging him and calling out his name. If he hadn't restrained himself with all his might, Mo Ran might have pressed him to the ground in front of everyone – even though that didn't ultimately happen, Mo Ran's emotions were so intense that Chu Wanning didn't know how many people around them had sensed something amiss.

Chu Wanning slowly got up, his legs and feet numb from sitting too long.

Xue Meng subconsciously raised his hand, but for some reason, he didn't approach to help. Instead, Shi Mo reached out and softly said, "Master, take your time."

Lowering his eyelashes, Chu Wanning didn't say much nor offer any explanation. He simply removed his already disheveled outer robe, the white garment billowing as it gently landed on Mo Ran's shoulders.

"Put it on. When the chill from the medicine fades, return it to me."

Mo Ran didn't dare to look at him for too long either, murmuring softly, "Yes, Shizun."

Others were busy examining the chamber for any hidden traps or mechanisms, so they dispersed. Xue Zhengyong asked Mo Ran a few questions and, upon seeing that his nephew was unharmed, patted his shoulder before striding towards the group of leaders.

Xue Meng, however, didn't leave. After the crowd had dispersed, he suddenly crouched down, looked left and right, then suppressed his voice and growled softly with anger, "What exactly did you dream about just now?"

Mo Ran: "..."

Xue Meng gritted his teeth. "I'm asking you a question."

"It was all just a dream."

"That's all just what you imagined in your heart!" The light in Xue Meng's eyes was chaotic, revealing his extreme anxiety. "What were you thinking? Were you... Were you..."

"I dreamed that I killed someone," Mo Ran shivered slightly from the bone-chilling cold, his lips pale. "I dreamed that I killed my Master."

"You—!"

"Nothing else..."

Xue Meng's lips quivered as if he wanted to ask more, but hearing Mo Ran's words, it didn't seem like a lie. Yet he claimed to have dreamed of killing his master...

Putting aside the fact that Mo Ran now held great respect for his teacher, why would he have such a terrifying dream? And just now, when he hugged Chu Wanning so tightly with that expression... was that how a disciple should behave? Was there something more? Something... Xue Meng dared not dwell on it further.

It felt as if taking one more step forward would lead him into an abyss.

As the drug's effects dissipated, Mo Ran slowly got up from the ground. Xue Meng hesitated for a moment but still supported him.

Mo Ran thanked him, "Many thanks."

Then he looked at the other cultivators walking ahead, "Were there others who were also affected by the incense?"

"No, only you. You ran too fast," Xue Meng was still preoccupied but his emotions had calmed down a bit, "The moment we entered the hall, Jiang Xi sensed that someone had lit the 'Incense of Eighteen Ghosts' here."

"...It's not eighteen ghosts, it's the Incense of the Nineteenth Level of Hell."

"Whatever it is, the name doesn't matter," Xue Meng said, "He dispelled it, and that's why we're all fine now." He paused, suddenly recalling something, then added, "But it was just a coincidence. If anything else had gone wrong just now, it would've been troublesome."

"What do you mean?"

"You were walking too fast, so you didn't see. On our way to the Heavenly Palace, several venomous snakes suddenly sprang out of the rattan basket that Nan Gongliu was carrying. Many people weren't able to dodge in time and got bitten. They're resting there now, unable to move. The snake venom is highly potent; Jiang Xi initially asked us to proceed while he stayed behind to extract the poison from them. Afterward, he planned to catch up. ... If that's the case, it seems everyone who reaches the Heavenly Palace will be affected," Xue Meng said. "He only has that vial of Dream-Freezing Cold Water, which won't be enough to save so many people."

Mo Ran felt something was amiss and asked, "Then why didn't he stay behind to help extract the poison?"

"One of his junior disciples claimed he could do it, so Jiang Xi left him there and came up with us first."

Mo Ran's brows furrowed even more.

His gaze followed Solitary Moon Night's group, scanning the crowd, but failing to locate the person he was looking for.

If Jiang Xi's disciple couldn't detoxify the snake venom, then there were only two possibilities for those who needed to remain at the site: Jiang Xi himself, or Hua Binan.

"Hua Binan?"

Xue Meng was taken aback. "You suspect the Cold-Scale Holy Hand?"

"Just asking."

"There's nothing to suspect. Hua Binan got bitten too; he's meditating down below. But he already has so much poison in his body, so he said he'd recover after some self-regulation and join us later."

Mo Ran's expression grew even more gloomy.

With Cold Scale Sacred Hand injured and immobile, the only one left to tend to the wounds was Jiang Xi. It was fortunate that Jiang Xi had an apprentice who, coincidentally, knew how to counteract this particular snake venom. Without this person, Jiang Xi might still be below, extracting the poison from the injured cultivators.

By the time he returned, what kind of scene would await them in this Ancestral Temple Celestial Palace? Would a single Vial of Shattering Dream Icy Water be enough to salvage the situation?

"Xue Meng."

"Hmm?"

"Keep an eye on Hua Binan."

As these words left his lips, the ground suddenly trembled violently, followed by a distant dragon's roar that pierced through the sky, originating from outside the hall.

Someone, startled like a bird at the sound of a bowstring, asked, "What's going on? What was that noise just now?"

A bolder cultivator offered, "I'll take a look."

He rushed to the entrance of the hall, peering down and surveying the sky before turning back and saying, "It's nothing. It's probably just some occasional sounds that this mountain makes, considering it was once the dwelling of a malevolent dragon spirit."

As he finished speaking, he was about to turn back.

Just then, something suddenly grabbed his ankle. The cultivator looked down and saw a bony, deathly pale hand. He didn't react immediately, still standing there in a daze.

Xue Zhengyong, with sharp eyes, had already shouted from a distance, "Be careful!"

But it was too late. A corpse leaped into the air, its body wrapped in the Confucian Wind Sect's crane banner. Blindfolded by a silk ribbon, it plunged its sword precisely and ruthlessly through the cultivator's chest.

"I…" The cultivator's eyes widened in confusion. He subconsciously reached for the protruding sword, then spat out a mouthful of blood and fell to the ground, motionless.

A moment of eerie silence followed, then the ground rumbled again. Everyone looked towards the temple entrance and saw thick dragon tendons rising from the earth, piercing through the clouds. Each tendon held the corpse of a previous Confucian Wind Sect disciple, forming a dense swarm in mid-air, ready to charge into the hall and crush everyone inside.

Master Ma covered his eyes in horror, yelling, "Oh my god, oh my god, we're going to die!"

Xue Zhengyong was so angered by the merchant's panic that he slapped the back of his head to shut him up. Then, he shouted at everyone, "Quick, close the temple doors! All of you, seal them shut! Don't let them in!"

Leading by example, Xue Zhengyong rushed towards the zombie staggering forward with a bloodied sword. He swung his fan, sending the creature flying out of the hall, kicking it down the long staircase. He then grabbed the spirit stone door and roared as he tried to push it closed.

However, the door seemed to have a mind of its own. It was easy to push from the outside, but impossibly heavy from the inside. Veins popped on Xue Zhengyong's forehead, but his strength was absorbed like water into the sea. Seeing the zombies being lifted closer by the dragon tendons, he cursed, "What's going on? Didn't Nangong Changying seal them just now? This damned dragon isn't listening! It's defying its master!"

Mo Ran and Xue Meng rushed to Xue Zhengyong's side to lend a hand. Nan Gongsi declared, "It's useless! These spirit stones were transported by four thousand laborers under the instruction of my great-grandfather. You'll never move them on your own."

Huang Xiaoyue was fuming with rage, cursing beside them, "Your great-grandfather sure has quite the capability!"

But Nan Gongsi ignored him. Addressing the group at the entrance who were desperately holding back the horde of zombies from the Confucian Wind Sect, he said, "To close the inner temple doors, you have to trigger the mechanism at the end. Hold them off for a while, I'll go activate it."

Xue Zhengyong spun his iron fan into a black blur, slapping away three or four advancing zombies. The black blood splattered across the fan surface, landing on the words "Xue Lang is very handsome." However, these zombies were fearless warriors, as they immediately got back up after tumbling down the steps and continued charging forward.

Xue Zhengyong turned his head and urged, "Hurry up! There are more coming! Damn it, what's going on here?"

Summoning See Ghost, Mo Ran knew that the temple doors were their last line of defense. Thus, he charged out to fight the zombies on the long staircase. However, the narrow staircase restricted his movements, and he had to be cautious not to step into the void above the ninth heaven. As a result, the battle was exhausting.

With one lash of his whip, he swept away a row of climbing corpses, but more monsters were lifted up from the distant ground by the stench of the dragon sinew. Eventually, he found himself surrounded, trapped in a sea of corpses.

Nonetheless, Mo Ran had no intention of escaping immediately. These zombies were drawn to the scent of living beings, and he was the closest target. Almost all the undead were heading straight for him.

Hiding behind Jiang Xi, tremulous Ma Zhuangzi commented, "Oh, Grandmaster Mo truly embodies righteousness and bravery. What courage, what valor!"

Frustrated, Jiang Xi turned his head and snapped, "Is there anything else you can do besides business transactions?"

"I specialize in things that require time and dedication to master, like formations, techniques, and weapon assembly. I'm not skilled in close combat..." Facing Jiang Xi's icy gaze, Lord Ma hesitated, then awkwardly suggested, "How about... I cheer you on?"

Jiang Xi: "...."

However, the man had a point. Each sect had its strengths and weaknesses. In a bloody battle like this, only a few could survive charging in. The rest would be sacrificing themselves, even Jiang Xi couldn't get too close; the medicinal powder was useless against corpses.

Xue Meng stood at the entrance of the hall with Longcheng in hand, his eyes fixed on the black figure amidst the crane banners. He watched as a blood vine shot out from the ground, carrying a high-ranking Confucian Wind Sect disciple straight for Mo Ran. Xue Meng couldn't hold back any longer. He drew his sword and slashed off the corpse's arm, then, standing back-to-back with Mo Ran, he cut through the wriggling dragon tendon.

Blood splattered everywhere!

Xue Zhengyong cried out, "Meng'er! Come back!"

"It's fine! I'm with him!"

The identity of 'him' was obvious.

Mo Ran turned to Xue Meng and said, "Go back. I'll handle it here. You be the second line of defense. If I can't—"

"Shut up!" Longcheng vibrated in Xue Meng's hand as he snapped impatiently, "Am I Spirit Mountain's number one or are you? Are you the young master of Death and Rebirth Peak, or am I? Are you more capable, or am I?"

"..."

A surge of warmth filled Mo Ran's chest, silencing him. He focused on battling the surging zombies alongside Xue Meng, their backs against each other.

Suddenly, the stone doors on either side rumbled and began to close slowly towards the center. Xue Zhengyong was overjoyed and promptly called out, "Excellent, excellent! They're moving! The doors are closing. Both of you, hurry back! Come this way!"

Mo Ran and Xue Meng worked in tandem, their respective red glows from the ghost and Longcheng intertwining like shadows. Amidst clashing sounds, numerous corpses plummeted from the heavens as the dragon tendon spewed blood and snapped.

They gradually approached the main gate, which was also inching shut.

Xue Meng said, "You go in first."

Mo Ran replied, "We'll enter together."

"..."

"Go already! What are you waiting for?"

Xue Zhengyong urged anxiously from within, "Hurry up! Come back quickly!"

Mo Ran abruptly grabbed the collar of Xue Meng's robe. Xue Meng exclaimed angrily, "Let go! Don't try to be a hero with me, you—"

"Who's trying to be a hero with you? Let's go!" Mo Ran said, dragging Xue Meng along with one hand while stepping on a stone step. He fiercely swung Ghost-Be-Gone behind his back, repelling a group of approaching zombies. Then, he and Xue Meng dashed towards the entrance.

The door was only half-closed; there was no rush at all. Mo Ran threw Xue Meng to Xue Zhengyong and leaned against the temple door himself, holding the vine whip imbued with Star Fire as he faced the wind, his brows and eyes burning with intensity as he slowly retreated.

Suddenly, the two enormous stones that were merging together stopped.

Xue Meng exclaimed, "Why did it stop?"

He turned around and saw Nan Gongsi emerge from behind a colossal Heavenly Palace pillar, which would have taken ten grown men to surround. His face was pale, and he said gloomily,

"The pivot of the Kuaji mechanism is damaged. When it was halfway closed, the chain broke and can't be rejoined."

After Nan Gongsi finished speaking, he raised his hand. In the palm of his scarred hand was a broken bronze lock, trembling slightly.